


War

by mocinno



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Amnesia, Character Study, F/M, Post-Canon, editing and revising is for smart people I’m bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mocinno/pseuds/mocinno
Summary: “I like war.” He shrugged, like it was the most normal statement in the world. “It brings people together.”
Relationships: Henry/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	War

Henry made friends through war.

That was simply how it was for him. Most all of his friends, or the people he called friends, were made in wartime.

The war in Plegia was a great example. It was how he met Mustafa, after all. Some days he would still long for those peaches.

“I know you don’t have anyone else, so you should know. You can come by any time. You’re part of our family.”

He always thought that was a funny idea. Family was blood, and not a drop of his was shared with Mustafa.

Oh well! If it meant free peaches, he was happy to be conscripted. 

He enjoyed the violence and bloodshed.

Now, long after Grima’s defeat, violence was rare. His days were spent in partially lucid wandering, wishing for a war.

War was how he made friends, after all. 

His favorite war was the Valmese-Ylissean War. It was how he met Robin.

It was then that he decided he loved her.

Being under her command, guided by her sharp wit, was the best feeling in the world. Even better than murder.

It was then that he met his other friends as well. The Shepherds taught him that family could exist without blood connections. Family was whoever you made war with. 

If it weren’t for the Valmese-Ylissean War, Henry wouldn’t have met his wife or his best friends. 

He needed another war, though, since without it most of his friends had left to pursue greater ambitions.

He was stuck in the capital, the most prosperous and populated city in all of Ylisse. Chrom offered him a place to stay after the war, and without anywhere else to go, he accepted. 

He regretted it only mildly. The capital was the least war-torn city in the entire country. 

Maybe he should have followed Lon’qu back to Regna Ferox. At least there, there was constant violence, and violence is pretty similar to war.

Or he should have moved in with Maribelle, who became a magistrate, helping heal her county from the war’s wounds. Even though the best part of war, the bloody murder, had passed away, there were still opportunities to be had in its wake. 

But, nope.

He voiced these complaints to the crows that would flock around the city. They had shockingly little to say on the subject for a group whose alternate title was murder.

The animals liked him anyway, though, so he enjoyed his long walks after dark through the woods, even if he would always come back to an exasperated looking guard.

Recently, Henry’s favorite location was the royal library. He usually passed his days wandering around the towering bookshelves, occasionally selecting a worn grimoire to page through.

He paced quietly through the shelves, watching the seating area at the center of the library.

He wished there was another war.

Robin was sitting at one of the tables, reading a book. 

A month ago, Chrom and Lissa found her while they were on a walk in the capital.

She was dazed and confused. Her only memory was her name.

He wished there was another war.

To not overwhelm her, they’d told her little of her circumstances. She was a close friend of the king and was allowed free reign over the entire castle.

The one time they tried to tell her more, she nearly collapsed from the strain.

He wished there was another war because it was a war that brought them together. 

Robin turned the page of her book. Upon learning that she’d lost her memories, she set to learning as much about what history she’d lived through as possible. 

Unfortunately for her, almost all record relating to her was lost after the war. Not even her name was in the history books. 

Still, the topic seemed of great interest to her, so no one was willing to stop her futile efforts.

Henry glanced over her shoulder sometimes, and in his opinion, her readings were quite boring. He would be able to tell her the whole history of the Shepherds plus some, in a much more entertaining way, if only he could stand to be in her presence for more than a minute.

He sat across from her with his own tome. She nodded politely.

He wished there was another war.

War was ugly. Villages burned and people died in slow, ugly ways. 

But in that ugliness, Henry found love.

It was in that ugliness that he worked side by side with Robin on the chores of the Shepherds. It was in that ugliness that he grew to trust her with his eyes blindfolded and his hands tied. It was in that ugliness that he soothed her worries.

It was that ugliness that gave him happiness.

His hand itched to take hers, to hold her, to feel her warmth, to make her smile with his bad jokes as he used to.

“You’d hate me if you heard my thoughts right now, yaha.” 

This was why he couldn’t stand to be around her for too long. He would get urges too powerful to suppress.

“What do you mean?” She looked up half-heartedly from her book. It wasn’t the first time he’d been a playful pest.

“I saw you’re on the chapter about the Valmese-Ylissean war.”

“I am. So?”

“I wish there was another one.”

“Explain.”

“I like war.” He shrugged like it was the most normal statement in the world. “It brings people together.”

“I suppose. But I can’t imagine advocating for a war for that reason. There are other ways to make friends than the possible death of hundreds of thousands. 

“Sure! But that war was special to me.” He flapped his ring in front of her. It was shaped like a dragon, with a earthy brown gem sitting in the creature’s mouth. “It’s why I have this.”

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“Nyaha, I could never forget.”

“… I don’t hate you for wanting war. I like the ring, by the way.”

“I know.”

That night, Henry wandered the corridors of the royal laboratory. Miriel wore away the hours there, experimenting with her latest doohickeys and whatchamacallits. She did occasionally procure remarkable inventions, like a special oil which burned in lamps far longer than the regular kind.

His fingers ran over a sealed case full of cardboard boxes. Contained in the boxes was a foul stench that would draw any Risen within miles once opened.

He tapped his nails gently against the glass, itching to break in and snap open one of the boxes. If there was not a war, he would make one.

He raised his fist. Any glass damage would be menial for the reward.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up. Robin, shadowy and pallid, stood in the laboratory doorway. She approached him, yet her figure seemed to get paler as it approached. She rested her hand on his arm.

“These are kept in a secure location for a reason.”

“Nya hah, well, not secure enough.” He spoke, but he didn’t speak.

He stepped back, and his shadow remained.

Dreaming. He must have been dreaming.

His shadow self tapped the glass case again. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“What? No? I don’t care about the boxes.” The ghost of Robin squatted next to him and pat his shoulder. “If you open one of these now, we’ll be caught completely off guard. Besides, there’s a town barely outside of these mountains, they’ll be swarmed. If you want to fight that badly, then wait till  _ I _ open one of these, okay?”

“Oh, so you  _ do _ open them?”

“Of course. They’re useful for training.”

“And observing Risen!”

“I suppose? But yeah, no opening reeking boxes without understanding the full repercussions. And even if you do, don’t open it for a selfish reason.”

The shadows faded into the darkness.

Henry shook himself. No opening reeking boxes for selfish reasons.

* * *

Henry kept visiting. 

Robin kept reading. 

After she finished reading, she started speaking. She started walking around the capital with the former Shepherds, each time assaulting them with a flurry of questions. They hesitated at first, afraid to injure her with her own memories, but she was so insistent and so powerfully puppy-eyed that they couldn’t resist.

He would see her walking the halls of the castle with Ricken, touring the castle’s laboratories with Miriel, being guided around the shop stalls with Gaius.

She always found her way back to the library.

“You know, Chrom,” she said, as the prince guided her to the royal library once more, “I’ll learn the way here one day. I’m sorry for having you guide me each time.”

“It’s no problem.” The king’s eyes were pained. “You never have been good with directions. Great with maps, though.”

“I see. Now that I’m here, I have a question. There’s a man often wandering around here. I was wondering if you know his name?”

“Pale, white hair?” She nodded. “That would be Henry. He’s also one of the Shepherds.”

“Oh?” In her amnesiac eyes, he was an eerie, oft prying oddity. She couldn’t imagine him being part of an organized war effort. “He doesn’t seem the type.”

“Haha! He doesn’t seem like a lot of things. But believe me, Robin. When--” he faltered. “When you were with us, you trusted him with your heart and soul. You don’t need to be wary of him.”

“Alright. I’ll leave you to do your duties.”

“Henry?”

“Mm?” He peeked out from behind his bookshelf. “Why, a little birdy’s come to say hello.”

“I hear that you’re one of the Shepherds.”

“Right-o. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been looking for members of the Shepherds. I thought that maybe, speaking to you people and being reminded of who I once was… It could help me properly remember. And if nothing else, I’ll be reforging those old bonds.”

He pretended to not know all of it already. “Ooh, I like it. Where should we start?”

“Tell me about this tactician of yours.” Her eyes sparkled with innocent curiosity. “I keep asking, but everyone else hesitates and dodges. You seem like someone who won’t hesitate to tell me the truth.” She paused and tilted her head. “Actually, I think Ricken said something like: ‘it should be Henry telling you that, not me.’ I was wondering who Henry is.”

“Ah.” His fingers itched to curse the Exalt’s archsage. “Sure. Shoot your questions!”

“Number one, what was she like? Just, overall. Even that seemed to scare so many people.”

“Well,” he swallowed. “Well, she was super smart, tactician and everything. It was her job, but it was also her life.” His words felt like they were snowballing. “She directed us on the battlefield like she was having the best time of her life. But she wasn’t… intimidating. I never felt like I couldn’t talk to her, or that she was too smart for me, you know?” 

Robin nodded, like she was taking notes with her eyes. “I think I get it. What about, like, hobbies?”

“Mm, strategizing. Reading, all kinds of books. She enjoyed organizing around the barracks, too. I could always find her at our little makeshift bookshelf. Oh, and her cooking was shite.”

She choked on her own spit.

“What?”

“The... tactician. I guess they haven’t told you her name. She was god-awful at cooking. Put Plegian deserts to shame.”

“I-I see. Anything else?”

Anything else. Robin’s eyes glowed up at him. There was  **so** much else. The way her pulse quickened when he’d kiss her neck. The way her eyes blazed when she knew she was about to put her opponent in check. The way she could leap atop a pegasus like she was a gymnast. The way she laughed at his worst jokes.

“She was her best person on the battlefield.”

“I see. She seems like quite the figure; I understand why everyone’s spoken so highly of her.”

“Indeed.”

“What happened to her, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Henry blinked. For a second he flashed his violet eyes at the tactician in front of him. “I don’t know if Chrom wants me to tell you.”

“Bah humbug,” she giggled, “Chrom seems lovely but he’s overprotective of me. I might not have my memories, but I’m still an adult.”

He nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes as he turned over the many ways to phrase his next sentence. “We lost her. We discovered that there were two ways Grima could be defeated-- the power of the Falchion, and the power of Grima itself. The Falchion was temporary, and Grima was permanent, but Grima meant losing R- the tactician.”

“That’s fascinating. Even from my readings, all I’ve been able to surmise is that the tactician vanished after the war. Never such fine details.”

“First hand account!” He laughed and felt hollow. “You can guess her decision. I think the tactician was dumb.”

“Really?” She twirled her pigtail in deep thought. “I think it was the right decision. She sacrificed herself for the greater good of future generations. It’s the decision I would have made, had it been me.”

Henry’s smile never felt thinner. “I know.”

“I don’t think it’s entirely cut and dry, though. From what you’ve said, you must have known her well.”

“You can say that.”

“The decision must be harder if you knew her personally. I think if I knew her like you did, it would be a challenge.”

“You can say that,” he repeated, running his thumb against the dragon’s maw on his finger. “Let me tell you something that’s excluded from the textbooks, though.”

“Hm?”

“There was a chance to the choice. A very small probability that, if her bonds to her friends were powerful enough, she would survive the sacrifice.”

“Oh,  _ that’s  _ dumb.” The rawness of her words nearly wiped the smile off of his face. “The power of ‘bonds’? Was this history or was it a whimsical novel?”

His fingers twitched.

His entire body urged him to hug her, kiss her, smother her with all the loving her demise had lost her.

He leaned over the table to whisper.

“Can I tell you something even dumber?”

“What could beat the power of friendship?”

“The tactician’s name was Robin.”

She fainted.

* * *

Henry kicked his feet in half-hearted glee. Smiling was harder lately.

Chrom slowly rubbed his temples. “So.”

“So!” His cheeks hurt from smiling.

“You told her her past.”

“I did.”

“Even after we made it as clear as possible to not tell her.”

“No one told me. I’m always out of the loop.”

“Maybe so, but—“

“She deserves to know, Chrom.” He opened his eyes enough to glare at the Exalt. “She’s lost her memories, not her maturity. You can’t hold her in this bubble for eternity.”

“I’m afraid of losing her again.” He ran a hand down his face. “Surely you can understand. It was the worst day of my life to lose her and the second worst day to find out she lost her memories again.”

He pressed his thumb into the dragon’s mouth on his hand. The carved fangs dug into his skin. “I know better than anyone. I’m her  **husband** , but everyone around here seems to forget that.”

“Henry, you weren’t there when we tried telling her.”

“Then tell me now! For a king, you sure are dense!”

_ “Ugh.” _

_ “Gods, is that- Robin!” _

_ “Wuh…?” _

_ “You’re alive, you’re safe! I’m so glad to see you again.” _

_ “I-I’m flattered, but, um, if I could get a name?” _

_ “... What? This is a bad joke. Right? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten-?” _

_ “I’m sorry. I, er, I think you’re right, my name is Robin, but I don’t know who you are.” _

_ “Look at her eyes. She looks the exact same as back then. … Chrom?” _

_ “Your name is Robin. You’re a royal tactician for the Exaltdom of Ylisse. Three years ago, to this day, I found you lying in this exact field. We’ve fought countless battles together. Don’t you dare tell me you’ve forgotten me.” _

_ “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know you.” _

_ “Robin. Robin, please. Your favorite board game is chess. You’re awful at cooking. You want to have two kids. You love seafood, especially octopus. Your greatest fear is to be alone. You—“  _

_ “What…?” _

_ “You have a husband named Henry. You love each other more than any other couple on this entire continent. He would move mountains for you.” _

_ “I-I don’t know—“ _

_ “Chrom, I think you’re hurting her.” _

_ “I, I-! Oh, gods… I’m so sorry. Hah. Haah. It’s so hard to breathe. I can’t breathe!” _

“You made her have a  **panic attack** ?!” Henry’s eyes flew open in livid fury. “Are you kidding me?! No wonder she passed out, you overwhelmed her!”

Chrom wrung his hands. “I know, but I’m terrified of it happening again.”

He wanted to grind the king’s skull into a pulp. “I’m sure there’s no caw-se for alarm.” The chair whined as he flopped into it. “She’s more resilient than you believe.”

He made a discovery in the following days: he needed a minimum of five hours of sleep. There were approximately twenty-four hours in a day. The other nineteen were dedicated to sitting beside Robin until she awoke.

“I met you during the war with Valm. You thought I was weird, I know, but you kept talking to me. I don’t know why. But you did.”

He gripped her hand tightly. Her fingers seemed delicate and pale in his, skinny and underfed. “Without that war, I doubt you’d have even spoken to me. Even looked my way. You don’t have any reason to, now.

“Aren’t I a weirdo? That’s what everyone at school always called me. Never you, though, you always said I was ‘ineffable.’ Maybe you’re the weirdo?”

His lips brushed against her fingers. “I wish there were another war, then maybe you’d love me again.” His eyes burned, the line between tears or lack of sleep blurring. “You’re so beautiful on the battlefield. You have the cutest pouts when you’re stressed.”

Robin’s shoulders gently rose and fell with her breaths. 

“The Robin I know would be mad at me for saying these things. She’d call me selfish, idiotic. I can’t help it, though.” 

He ran his fingers over the ring on her finger. A deep purple gem was held in a decorated skull’s jaw.

“What can I do to bring you back? You’d do worse than kill me if I tried to start another war. I don’t know a single spell to help with this kind of amnesia.”

Robin’s eyes flew open with a great gasp. 

He looked up.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“What?”

Robin laid her hand over his. Her smile was weathered and broken. “I had a dream while I was out, and I saw myself. That’s all she said.”

He looked at her pale hand in his. “I see.” 

She closed her eyes.

There was one more thing her other self said.

_ Tell him I’m sorry. _

“Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?” Henry’s eyes, she realized, were a purple as dark as dusk. 

She thumbed the ring on her finger. “Stay by me.”

_ So I can understand why she loves you so much.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lin Manuel Miranda voice: God, I wish there was a war! Then we could prove that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for…


End file.
